Last night I had a late dinner, 10ish. Normally I watch tv or listen to the radio while I eat. I surfed but didn’t find any of the usual suspects. For some reason I stopped on PBS, thinking it was CBC, and there was Wayne Dwyer selling his whole enchiladas to raise money for public television. Having just watched a Cheryl Richardson dvd with Mom on Sunday, something clicked in my brain and reminded me that Stacy had also given me some Wayne Dwyer cds I’d never had time to listen to yet.
So I put the first one in, thinking I’ll just listen to a track or two and see what this is all about. The first thing he talks about is the work he does for PBS selling the whole enchilada. Hmm, I thought, since there’s no such thing as coincidences maybe I’m supposed to watch PBS tonight or listen to this cd. They were still in intermission on PBS, so I chose the cd.
One of the things he talks about on that first cd is how our thoughts manifest into our reality, which is essentially the same thing Cheryl Richardson was saying on Sunday. All of these personal development type coaches and motivational speakers say the same stuff, it’s just a matter of finding the one you can stand to listen to. I like Dwyer because he’s straight-forward and a little funny. He’s also a bit more spiritual than some other ones but he’s not a Jesus freak. He says stuff like our soul mates are like the turds that won’t flush. Conrad from Grand Falls put me onto him about a year or so ago when he gave me a cd at a mighty meeting.
Anyway, one of the things he says is to not die with your music inside, which is a really simple concept we’ve all heard before but I really needed to hear this last night. Everyone has a purpose, something we were put on this earth to do or share, and deep down inside we all know what our purpose is, just think of the time when you were most at peace in your life, the most happy, and identify what you were doing.
We tend to live our lives in denial that we’re ever going to die, the infinity of death scares the crap out of us so we live like we’re going to live forever, like we have all the time in the world. Meanwhile, the only thing we know with absolute certainty is that everyone dies. And whether you believe in reincarnation or heaven or six feet under and that’s all folks doesn’t matter, the fact is you’ll never live this life again — when it’s over, it’s over forever. And forever is such a huge concept we can’t get our heads around it, it’s terribly frightening. If we only died for a million years or a billion, we’d be okay with that, we’d be prepared to wait it out . . . but forever? How does one do infinity?
Don’t die with your music inside. So simple.
I was most happy and at peace that year I took off to write fiction full-time. Writing the stories I wanted to tell brought me a healing inner peace that has been lacking in my life. Not that I’m unhappy or anything like that, life has been pretty damn good for me, I’m doing a lot of the stuff I always wanted . . . but I haven’t been writing much fiction, I haven’t been creating many of the stories I want to tell, I haven’t been dedicating much time to fulfilling my purpose, if I died today that music would still be inside. And I don’t want that to happen. There’s no reason for it to happen. I can and will make the time.
So late last night I took out the notebook and returned to the tools I know work, the list of six things that must be done tomorrow — 2 for mighty, 1 for wfnb, 1 mundane maintenance, and 1 for me. Then I went to bed, set the alarm for one of the first times since my move and when it went off at 6:30 I got up, made coffee and thanked the universe for the opportunity to fulfill my purpose today.
Mood: chipper & optimistic
Drinking: coffee, the good kind, with cream
Listening To: the dryer tumble
Hair: messy bed head